


it's not my fault i want  you(it's yours)

by sometimeswebreakbeforeweshine (orphan_account)



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Basically, Friends to Lovers, Jealous Calum, Jealousy, M/M, calum pov mainly, michael puts up cuddler applications around the uni and cal sees, thanks natalia kills, then friends, this was born bc me and nat were rambling one night and i was like lets do it fuck yeah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 16:08:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4106953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/sometimeswebreakbeforeweshine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>michael puts up cuddle applications and calum sees. he doesn't want anything more but this is a fanfic what are you expecting honestly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's not my fault i want  you(it's yours)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cliffakitten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cliffakitten/gifts).



Calum thinks it’s weird. It is a little bit weird that there’s a cuddle application going around. A cuddler application? What could that mean? It’s fake-professional formatted like a job application. The whole thing seems a bit bizarre. And there’s no picture, no picture of the guy putting up a cuddle application on the uni wall. It’s got an email address and yeah, it’s probably a joke, but Calum would want it. Calum would _like_ cuddling with a stranger. It’s like friends with benefits but better. Because Calum really does miss it, miss how it felt to be wrapped up in someone’s arms, to have lips on his collarbone. And god, the way he worded the whole application was so _cute._

Calum’s been a bit lonely since he’d broken up with Zayn. He hadn’t loved Zayn, but when Zayn Left their once-shared flat with teary eyes and a half-shaved head, heart in hand, he didn’t tell him that. Zayn was fire and light and he was good hearted, every action he took was meant to help calum. But Calum hadn’t loved Zayn, because Zayn was Zayn, and there wasn’t anything wrong with him, but he wasn’t what Calum needed. He wasn’t what he wanted , and Calum didn’t even know what he wanted.

He’d missed it, though. He had cared for Zayn, if not loved him. There’s something about being held and holding someone, fingers brushing through hair and eyes open wide and then drifting shut. Even if there’s less love than Calum would’ve liked.

It’s a good idea. It really is. It isn’t. It’s a stupid idea. A cuddle application. But Calum, he misses it. He misses being held and feeling cared for, like he mattered to somebody. He mattered to Ashton, but he doesn’t want Ashton to cuddle him, he doesn’t want Ashton. Maybe it’s because Ashton doesn’t want him. They’re brothers.

He sent an email to the guy who put up cuddle applications around the uni. Ashton laughed at his desperate attempt for human contact but in Calum’s defense, he felt like he hadn’t been touched in months. And if it didn’t work out, it was a pretty good story to tell. the address was a dorm, so he thinks

So clad in his favorite pair of black skinny jeans and Ashton’s grey tank top, and a denim jacket, he walked to the address that the guy gave him. It’s stupid, walking to a stranger’s house. He realizes this is crazy stupid. He realizes it half way over there, but he looks good and he dressed up and maybe it’ll be cool to be murdered. The guy’s expecting him. His name’s Michael and he’s 21, which maybe is all that he needs to know.

And suddenly he’s here, at a chipped wooden door of a flat that didn’t look too nice but didn’t look to shabby. If he didn’t know now, he never would.

_don’t knock you’re an idiot he could be a hobo murder._

He’s not a hobo murderer. There’s a guy in front of his face and the guy’s face is quite possibly the happiest thing that he’s ever seen. He’s pale but he’s _bright_ and Calum might be drowning a little in his light. He’s so _gorgeous_ that the air is caught in his throat as well as his words and yeah he would love to be held in this guy’s arms. He’s smiling and he’s got absurdly pink lips and everything feels good when Michael’s eyes are on his.

“Calum! I mean, it’s Calum, right?” he’s got an Australian accent but it sounds lovely, a little bit of a drawl and it’s warm and Calum likes it. He’s radiating warmth and Calum kind of wants to lean into him and be pressed into his chest. It takes him a second to nod and _fuck_ that smile is so perfect, puffy pink lips and white, white teeth that put the stars to shame. Oh wait, no, those _eyes_ put _galaxies_ to shame.

“M-Michael, right?” Fuck, he stuttered. _Stuttered._

“Yeah mate, come in!” he’s excited, and it’s adorable. They haven’t planned much, all they were seeking was a bit of intimacy and to be held, and this whole house reeks of comfort. It’s the kind of house that exudes home, the walls and the people there. It was nice, a little messed up, a vinyl or two on the coffee table and a crappy TV on the stand.

The boy’s got lilac hair and it looks so soft that Calum just wants to run his hands though it. It looks warm, nice. Michael is nice to look at, easy on the eyes.

_you came here to cuddle not to swoon_

“You are…more attractive than I expected.” Michael laughed and Calum immediately likes the sound of it. A blush settled across his cheeks and and spat out a quick thank you. He’s never done this before, been in a stranger’s house to cuddle of all things.

“You are too. Far less old-man-ish.” He joked and _there’s_ that laugh. He’s blushing the tiniest bit, just a bit on pink thrown onto his pale cheeks.

He curtsies falsely which is like, _not okay_ because this is a guy with an eyebrow bar and skinny jeans and totally looks punk rock. But he also looks like a puppy. A really cuddly puppy. Yeah, Calum can’t wait to get his hands on Michael.

“I picked out some movies for us to watch, they’re some old disney ones, but I quite like them, yeah, sorry I’ve never done this before.” It’s genuinely so sweet and cute that this twenty year old guy has arranged so much just for comfort.

“You’re fine, babe.” Calum smiled, and he’s sat next to Michael on the couch. Michael’s moving tentatively his arm wrapped around Calum’s middle and the other hand wrapped holding Calum’s own. It’s nice, he decides. He smells like peppermint and kisses, and it’s perfect. He likes it. He really, really does.

~~~

Michael liked this kid. Calum, Calum was his name. Calum was the name of the tan gorgeous guy that’s in his arms. This is quite possibly the best guy that Michael has ever met. His eyes were warm and brown and Michael likes them. He knows that maybe in this arrangement they’re supposed to not talk, but Calum's broken that rule tenfold. Micael really doesn’t are. It’s nice.

“Michael, why are they dating? They hate each other!” Calum spoke, noise rumbling out from where Calum’s lips were nestled on Michael’s shoulder, or more properly, the fabric of Michael’s shirt. Michael returned his question with a smile and a small _hmm_ noise. Calum's arms were wrapped around his middle and his face was buried in Michael’s shoulder. Their legs were tangled and there’s a blanket over them, and it’s probably the _opposite_ of what he expected when he put posters up. But here it is, a boy leaning on his chest and it feels like heaven. Calum’s warm, every inch of his skin like a fucking heater. Michael’s cold all the time, but not with him. Calum’s a good cuddler. He is.

When the movie’s over they know they have to leave but there’s maybe half an hour of Michael, a proper stranger, rubbing circles into Calum’s arms, tracing his tattoos (which were lovely).

“This is quite definitely the weirdest experience I’ve ever had with another guy,’ Michael spoke slowly, then met his eye with a mischievous glint. God, he looks nice.

_platonic, cal, platonic._

“I’d agree, Mike. I’ll see you next week?” It’s a question and Calum knows that, knows how weak his voice sounds but he just sounds drowsy. His body feels tingly and nice and like every piece of his body is warm, like since Michael touched him he’s got light in his bones and threading through his body.

He doesn’t want to like this guy. He doesn’t. He doesn’t like Calum. He just likes being pressed up against him and he likes the warmth of his skin.

“‘Course Cal!” he smiled and Calum curses at his heart for speeding up.

The door’s shut and the night air is cool and soft on Calum’s skin. He feels like he could take on the world.

~~~

Calum’s bored. Calum’s bored of hanging out with Ashton who never seems to talk about anything but Luke Hemmings, the boy in his Chemistry class who’s got _such blue eyes calum oh my god_ and yeah, it was a bit annoying.

He’s bored of being alone and he misses the feeling of being held. It’s only been a few days, and shit, he’s seeing Michael in 3 days, but he just wants to be held. He just wants to have someone touch him. He just wants that walking on the cosmos feeling. He likes the way Michael touches him, like he’s delicate. He doesn’t want to date Michael, that’s for sure, but it’s just- he’s something. There’s something. Calum doesn’t want him, but he wants to be held by him.

So he grabbed his jacket and bag, some cokes and candies, and drove to the flat.

He’s praying a little bit that he’s free, but hey, that’s what the arrangement is for. It’s like friends with benefits, but with cuddling.

“Calum?” Michael says after Calum knocks on the door, and that’s when he notices.

He notices the Aussie boy standing in the way in flannel pajamas and a sex pistols tee, bracelets off and sleep in the corner of his eyes.

_it’s like 11:30 of course he’s in pajamas_

“Hey,” He swallowed, feeling a little lighter under Michael’s gaze. “I brought snacks.” he offered weakly, and he’s being pulled into their vanilla scented home and is nestled on that green couch, Michael’s arms around him like a koala bear.

The lay on the couch, fingers caught up in eachother’s the day’s events slipping out of their lips, words that Calum’s not even sure why he’s saying what he’s saying but he’s saying it. Michael’s talking about his roommate and school and his music major and his band and random drivel but it’ nice. He loves it. Calum loves being in his arms. Second day they’ve properly talked, and Calum likes this a whole hell of a lot.

Michael told some joke and isn’t that funny, but Calum finds it fantastic.

He’s laughing. They’re both laughing and yeah, maybe they can have fun together. Or maybe they can watch bad TV and laugh together. They can stay wrapped up like this. They can. He doesn’t really know Michael, not really, but there’s something about him when he talks about his music or family. He likes him. He does.

~~~

It’s been two months. It’s been two months since he met Michael and every day he’d visit his flat, Every day Michael would rant and things were good and nice. Michael was something amazing, something smooth and shiny and new, smile like diamonds. He’s sunshine on his face and he’s yellow dandelions in spring. He’s a good friend. He’s a fantastic friend. There’s a joke between them that they could never date, that they’re so close for that. They couldn’t ever date, because they were Michael and Calum, and that was that. They were friends, and that was perfect with them both.

Michael’s nice. Michael’s the easiest person to touch, in every sense of the word. He’s easy to touch, easy to tell secrets to, easy to touch what _Michael_ is. Because they’re the outside of Michael and then there’s the inside, the warm center of kindness.

He’s going to the flat, the flat that he’s spent his time at. The flat where Michael is. The flat where he’s going to surprise Michael with a hug and his favorite nutmeg coffee. Yes, this was going to be a good morning.

He swung the door open (he has a key now, they’re that close and Calum’s plenty proud), and yeah, his heart fell to his feet.

Because Michael, the beautiful boy with lilac hair and pink lips, the boy with the angel laugh and words that were everything to Calum, is leaned over, lips pressed onto Luke’s.

Luke’s smiling against Michael’s lips and they looks so fucking _happy_ and why does Calum feel like he’s been punched in the stomach. They look so giggly and happy.

_luke’s tasted michael’s lips and i haven’t_

There’s a handful of pain-no, a truckload- and he feels like he might fall over.

“Calum!” Michael laughs from the counter, Calum feels sick to his stomach. There’s this weird feeling in his stomach and his heart hurts. Michael’s kissing Luke. michael’s kissed Luke. How long have they been together? are they even? How long has it been that Luke would hold Michael instead of Calum? How long has it been that Luke could swing their hands when they walked? How long has that sound that Michael makes when he’s so comfortable and happy, how long has it been since that sound belonged to Luke?

He’s going to be sick. He feels sick.

“This is Luke, my roommate!” Michael smiles and Luke does too, smiling happily at Michael, and he knows about Luke purely through pictures and stories that Michael’s told, and now, a kiss with his friend. He should be happy. He’s happy, so very happy for Michael. Because he looks so nice, so pretty and so happy and yes, that should make Calum happy. It does. Michael is his _friend._ His friend. He’s a good _guy._

“Hey,” Luke says shyly, and then scurries into the other room, Michael blowing a kiss in an over exaggerated way and Calum’s disgusted. Disgusted.

“Hi Cal,” Michael smiled hugging him tightly once he’s put down the coffee.

It feels like stardust on his heart, and he’s being held by Michael. Held. He wants to settle into those arms forever, that warm scent welcoming home.

“Hi Calum,” Calum faked a smile back. Why is he faking it? Why? “What was that?” Calum smirked (it’s fake, of course it’s fake) and elbowed him. Michael blushed. Michael _blushed_ and giggled a little. Fuck that. _Fuck_ that.

“Nothing, just me and Luke. Or maybe- something, I don’t know. I’ll let you know,” he laughs and fuck, he doesn’t want to know.

“Do you want to watch TV or something, Cal?” There’s fondness in his voice and yeah, he can tell Michael would like him to. But this is _wrong._ He can’t sit with this boy with green eyes and a soft touch and everything else that Calum could dream of, he can’t. Because that boy isn’t his.

“Yeah, I’d like to, but I’ve got a class, just wanted to drop off some coffee for you,” it’s a lie, a boldface lie and Calum can tell, can tell that he wants to stay.

“You do?” He looks so sad and a little tired when he mentions leaving, so much that Calum just wants to stay, wants to curl up on the couch and tell dumb stories. But he’s got Luke. Luke’ll do that.

“Yeah.” There should be more words, thick discomfort dissipated. But no. No.

And he’d gone through the door.

~~~

It’s late and he’s cold. He could go over to Michael’s right now, he could, but there’s still the idea of Luke and Michael in his head, and he can’t go over there.

It hurts to think about, but Calum doesn’t get _why._ It’s allowed in his flat, the brooding. Because Luke happened to be the Luke that Ashton was into. Ashton was pouting and whining because he had wanted to _be with_ Luke, had actually told him so. So after Calum told Ashton what he’d seen, the whole _lets whine and watch tv and be upset for 3 days_ thing was perfectly fine. Except three days passed and Ashton seemed okay. But Calum didn’t.

Calum didn’t get over the fact that Michael’s in another bed in another place with another boy. He can’t get over the fact that Michael’s kissing a blue eyed boy and yeah, Calum doesn’t like that.

He can’t. Even more, he can’t visit Michael when he feels like he doesn’t have a place in his life. WHich is stupid, because he’s Michael’s _friend._ Which means that he’s not allowed to want Michael to kiss his neck and breathe love into his neck and he’s not allowed to want to make Michael breakfast while he sings old Green Day songs under his breathe and fixes him coffee, not allowed to want to have those pink lips sunk onto his his own. Fuck, he shouldn’t even _want_ that. He went into this not wanting anything. He wasn’t ready for anything. But know that he’s held Michael and cared for him, there’s something. There’s something.

And Luke’s the own who has it.

He doesn’t see Michael for a week.

~~~

He’s drinking. It’s with Ashton, and maybe that’s a bit weird that it’s just the two of them, but they’re lonely. Ashton’s fallen asleep and Calum supposes he should too, but all he can is that Michael would feel so good to curl up to right now. Michael would feel so warm and nice and he wants to be there, wants that so much.

But Luke.

_Luke._

That bastard. That fucking bastard. For god sakes, he’s been with Michael for two months, cuddling and easy going touches, a lifetime. It was a lifetime to Calum, and who the hell was Luke to just come in and take him? Who the _hell_ was Luke?

And now he’s up on his feet and he’s walking, stumbling really, to Michael’s house. He isn’t taking a cab, besides, he knows the route like the back of his hand.

He stumbles a bit on the way and almost falls on the door when he knocks on the door, and fuck, _fuck_ he’s right there, this ball of warmth and affection and he likes it, likes it in a way that means that he hates it.

Hates it because Michael looks like he’s tired, but he also looks like an enigma of light and there’s warmth, and there’s the scent of _Michael_ washing over Calum and he’s fucking missed it.

“Cal-”

“You’re an absolute dick,” the words are flowing and yeah, drunk words are sober, completely unabashed thoughts. “ Absolute cock. Who do you think you are, with eyes like that? Parading around with that laugh? What the fuck! Luke is too. Absolute _cocker_. He sucks at Chem, did you know that? Sucks. You deserve a guy that rocks at chem. For fuck’s sake, how long have you known him? Huh? It’s not like _he_ memorized all your all your TV show and coffee tastes. Fuck, it’s not like _he_ remembers your cologne, it’s not like he _cares_. No but that little _fucker_ gets to have _you_. And I don’t.”

Michael’s smirking at him and it’s ridiculously annoying and he’s about the shout at him but then, it all goes black.

~~~

“Sleep well, Drunk Beauty?” he hears a warm voice call from across the room.

_Oh shit._

“Shit Mike-”

“No, go on, how much of an asshole is Luke? How bad’s his Chem?” Michael’s eating this shit up and it’s really fucking annoying. Like, so annoying. But he’s the one who came to Michael’s door drunk as all hell and he totally deserves this.

And there’s fondness in his eyes, and Calum’s weak under that gaze. So, so weak.

“I’m sorry, I was drunk, really fucking drunk-”

There’s a sobering look on Michael’s face and he’s nodding a little, like all humor has been wiped away. He swallowed, and no, no no he doesn’t like it, doesn’t like how his smile was grace and light and now it’s gone.

“Yeah, I’m aware. Um, you can go home if you want. Made you some toast pop strudels but they suck anyway, can give them to-”

“MIkey? Mikey _look_ at me.” Calum’s voice sounds a little desperate and he doesn’t like that, but he hates the way Michael won’t meet his eyes, like he’s been reminded of something he forgot for a moment.

“Mikey, you’re- do you think I didn’t mean any of that?”

“No, I’m sure Luke sucks at chem.” Michael smiled falsely, and they’re so close and he can smell the scent of toothpaste on Michael’s breath, and god, Michael is so lovely. Those eyes, those fucking eyes.

His eyes flicker to his lips and his knees almost give and it’s a reminder of what he’s missed, what he _wants._

“Look- I meant some of it, who even remembers,” he grabbed his hand, “ but I mean what I’m saying now. You’re gorgeous- don’t laugh! You’re so, so, so gorgeous, and god, seeing you with Luke- I never wanna see that again,”

“You’re not gonna, He and I decided that we both liked other people and it was pointless.”

There’s a ton of bricks off Calum’s back and he doesn’t know how to process it when all it feels like stardust and magic and there he is.

And _then_ they’re kissing.

Sloppy and stupid and bad, hands in each other's hair, smiling like idiots and Calum doesn’t know where to touch because he wants all of him.

“You’re never going near that boy again,” Calum breathed onto smiling lips and this feels the definition of perfect, Michael’s hands running up and down his back.

“We live together,” Michael laughed.

“Whatever. What-fucking-ever.” CAlum laughed. And Michael looks likes stars and the sun and cosmos and enigmas of light and Calum thinks he could and would gladly drown in the light that michael gives with his smile.

“Michael Gordon Dumbass Clifford,” there’s that laugh,”be my boyfriend?”

And then there’s laughing and kissing and of course, cuddling.

**Author's Note:**

> loverlylittleimagines on tumblr :) talk to me *blows kiss*


End file.
